


Tour

by itotoro



Series: Kucheon Diner series [2]
Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F, cityscape ish, if this looks familiar to you it's probably because it is, it's mostly tragic, jeongyeon film student, nayeon theater student
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:02:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26224621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itotoro/pseuds/itotoro
Summary: The tour starts at a bus stop and ends as a storm.Vignettes of various locations
Relationships: Im Nayeon/Yoo Jeongyeon
Series: Kucheon Diner series [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1910401
Comments: 2
Kudos: 31
Collections: Girl Group Jukebox - Mixtape Round





	Tour

**Author's Note:**

> Written for GG Jukebox Mixtape Round, inspired by the 1 by Taylor Swift

()

There is a bus stop outside the college gate. It is a minute away from the entrance, a designated spot of gray asphalt with a roof overhead to keep away the rain.

The college gate belongs to a University for the arts, hence the bus stop a familiar take-off point for many students. There is nothing unique about its green-gray roof, nothing spectacular about the advertisements pasted on its frame.

In that bus stop, Nayeon met Jeongyeon for the second time.

The first time was at a pool party organized by the University's Film Circle, at a three-star hotel three bus stops away. Nayeon had found Jeongyeon sitting by the pool, approached her, talked to her.

Jeongyeon was a sophomore pursuing a degree in film. Nayeon was a theater major a year ahead.

There was a light drizzle that made the roof of the bus stop more special than it would have been. Nayeon was there, cellphone in one hand and umbrella in the other. She heard the footsteps of a person half-running, half-walking through the rain.

It was Jeongyeon. And Nayeon remembered her from the night at the pool, the way her eyes shone when they talked about old movies and college fears. The pleasant sound of her voice, the laugh as Nayeon pulled her into the water.

Nayeon opened her umbrella as she ran, meeting Jeongyeon halfway and raising it over her head. On the film student's face was relief and surprise.

()

There is a diner a stone's throw away from the bus stop, a hole-in-the-wall with a warm color and clean glass walls. The door opens with a three-point chime; short and pleasant at every moment.

The diner is the perfect mix of quality food at a student-friendly price; with a modest menu it caters to the simplest cravings of cooked ramen, rolled kimbap, the occasional bibimbap set. It is said to always taste like home.

In that diner, Nayeon fell in love.

It was their third time eating at the place, Jeongyeon's order a bowl of ramen and Nayeon's order a roll of kimbap. The lady at the teller was a middle-aged woman who loved Jeongyeon for her thoughtfulness, served an extra dish of radish and an extra plate of kimchi.

Jeongyeon tucked an extra 5,000 won under her plate. A silent act of gratitude. The sharp lines of her face grew soft, and Nayeon fell in love with the way Jeongyeon glowed with kindness.

()

There is a moviehouse a couple of bus stops away from the diner, a brown building that stood at two floors tall. It is a fixture lost in time, at the entrance a defunct ticketing booth with dirty mirrors and glass panels, on the walls outside posters that have not been changed for decades. The light is bright from the dilapidated signboard above it; to the best of its ability it advertises the movie for the night.

Aficionados of film praise the moviehouse for its diversity of film, while college students praise the moviehouse for its 50% discount. It is for this reason the moviehouse fills to the brim on weekends, and sometimes on weekday evenings.

Jeongyeon took Nayeon to a movie on a Wednesday evening. The asphalt was glossy with leftover rain, catching the light that filtered through glass doors.

They had known each other for a year, and Nayeon knew she loved her. But Jeongyeon had avoided the conversation, danced around the unspoken attraction between them. In parts it was her parents' fault; they raised Jeongyeon with the expectation of marrying her off to a kind man.

Nayeon believed that this visit to the moviehouse was a step in the right direction.

The film was a film about death. In black and white stills a priest grappled with wavering faith, cried out to a god that he feared was absent. Jeongyeon sat beside her, fully engrossed. No doubt she studied the proportions of each frame, the way light caught in it anguish.

Nayeon saw the anguish in the actor's face, in his crumpled frame as he cried in another's arms.

"What are we?" Nayeon had asked at the height of the film. Her hand was on the arm rest, pinky finger tangled in Jeongyeon's.

Jeongyeon had looked at her then, gray light casting harsh shadows on her face, the crease of her brow a reflection of the actors onscreen. "I don't know," she said, "but I'll figure it out."

Nayeon was not a priest with wavering faith; in her heart the fervor was still fresh and vibrant. So she trusted.

()

There is a bar at the terminal stop of the bus, of equal distance from a subway station and a motel. It is open from four in the afternoon to six in the morning. Not a lot of students frequent the bar, even at the end of the semester when the need to let loose was highest.

The bar begins at a staircase of wood, climbing into a dark room with soft amber from sparse lamps. It is difficult to see the corners of the room. In the air was a song that lifted in the somber atmosphere, lulled the bar's patrons to relaxation.

Nayeon made her first and last mistake in the bar.

The first mistake was taking Jeongyeon to the bar after a long day. By that time Nayeon had learned Jeongyeon's habit of closing up when she was hurting. Loosening up would help, and the bar was private enough for Jeongyeon to want to stay.

Intoxication was a wild thing, and it told Nayeon that the best way to comfort Jeongyeon was to kiss her.

It worked, for the most part. Nayeon had woken up in a motel room, Jeongyeon sound asleep beside her, free of worry. But it had set a precedent; that every time Jeongyeon needed comfort, Nayeon would kiss her.

Jeongyeon lost herself in those kisses, hid in them instead of herself. When Jeongyeon fought with her parents, she took Nayeon to the bar, and then to the motel. When Jeongyeon saw Nayeon around other women, she took Nayeon to the bar, and then to the motel.

When Jeongyeon failed her fifth semester, she took Nayeon to the bar, and then to the motel. That was when Nayeon realized the mistake.

So she made another one, at the end of her senior year. Intoxication was a wild thing, and it told Nayeon that the best way to give Jeongyeon space was to kiss someone else.

She was intoxicated when she broke up with Jeongyeon in that very same bar, when she ended their half-assed relationship.

()

There is a major film studio in the heart of the city. Its high-rise windows and clean glass panels held the air of newness and progress. In its many floors was the workings of a new project, a production company's masterpiece-in-the-making.

The production company stands at the frontier of the industry, armed with a streak of critically-acclaimed films and talented casting.

This company was Nayeon's new beginning.

She had passed the audition with flying colors, was immediately thrust into the hands of a big project. At the helm was a film director who spoke with a harsh tone and hardly any praise. There was no room for lingering thought, only the perfection of the masterpiece-in-the-making.

Nayeon immersed herself in the project. Became the actress it needed. Strong, daring, cold. She cut her hair short.

Yet, every day she walked to the bus stop as Nayeon, whose eyes searched the road without purpose. It was difficult on days with a light drizzle, with an umbrella in one hand and a cellphone in the other, eyes searching for someone who needed it.

At some point she stopped bringing the umbrella. Her coat was enough to keep the soft showers away.

Nayeon had not drank a single drop of alcohol since.

Late into the night, on days the director called for longer hours, the light reflected on the asphalt in wavelike patterns. A reminder gentle in its bitterness.

* * *

Off the road, a stone's throw away from a major film studio, is a convenience store. The evening is late, and the weather is clear; the garish light of the convenience store stains the asphalt through the big glass windows. Tucked in an alleyway, is difficult to spot despite its brightness.

On the weekends Jeongyeon would visit her parents who lived two blocks away. She would sometimes bring her assignments to the convenience store, hunkering down for some peace and quiet until late in the evening.

On late weekday evenings, Nayeon would peer through the big glass windows, wondering what she was looking for.

Perhaps one weekend there would be a harsh rain. A torrential downpour. Perhaps Nayeon would have a project on the weekend, and Jeongyeon would not see the weather forecast. Perhaps their paths will cross once again.


End file.
